


A Smile to Survive

by holyhael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Post-Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam-Centric, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: For all his bravado and stalwart pretenses, a week after Dean, Cas, and - fuck, he's never going to get used to this - his mom rescue him from Toni’s basement, Sam still can't face the shower.





	

For all his bravado and stalwart pretenses, a week after Dean, Cas, and - fuck, he's never going to get used to this - his mom rescue him from Toni’s basement, Sam still can't face the shower.

Cas cured his physical injuries, but there ain't no fixing this. Not in any way Cas can manage, at least. This kind of injury takes time.

Although he takes regular sponge baths, he carries around with him the unmistakable scent of body odor. It makes the hairs of his nose curl, until he gets used to it, doesn't notice, doesn't care. He's given a wide berth throughout the bunker. He pretends not to notice his family's noses wrinkle in disgust whenever he's in close quarters with them. He tries to ignore the despairing stab that pierces his heart every time. He tries to ignore the loneliness like a maw gnawing at his insides.

It is his fault, anyway. He can't get over this fucking… phobia, or trigger, or whatever it is. It's been a week, and he's suffered worse by greater enemies, but still he can't bring himself to face the shower.

He drinks only lukewarm water from cups that he can't even fill himself. Mary and Dean compete to help him bathe with a sponge in the sink, both harboring a maternal instinct to dote on him. Sam craves it. He hates it. He's tired of it. For fuck’s sake, he's not a child.

The bathroom doors are shut, even when they're unoccupied.

After the sink is filled, Dean fetches him from the other side of the bunker. Sam shuts Dean out of the kitchen despite his insistence that he can help. Sam waits several minutes until he hears Dean groan and walk away before he himself walks away from the door, shedding his clothes.

The water is still steamy when he stands in front of it. The sponge floats along the top. Sam dips his hands in, takes a breath, and submerges his head.

As his lungs burn for oxygen, he can't help the memories that surface in his mind. The cold, the shivering, the helplessness, the solitude. The belief that no one could save him. Dean had been dead to him then, Cas without a way to find him, and there was no one else who'd know he was missing.

It made him ache, knowing he was well and truly alone. Again. Except this time there was no escape, no dog, no woman as broken as him and willing to give him a chance.

Sam exhales everything from his nose, and it bubbles up around his ears. He finally lets himself surface and breathes in moist air. His hair plasters to his skull and drips water down his neck. Dean left Sam’s shampoo at the corner of the sink beside the Dawn; he reaches for it and massages it thoroughly into his scalp and in his long locks. His fingers catch and untangle a few knots.

The water is marginally less warm the second time he dunks his head. He runs his fingers through his hair until he's sure he got out most of the soap, until the point he nearly lets the water rush into his aching lungs. He comes up gasping and has to stand over the sink with his palms braced against the counter while he catches his breath. His pounding heart gradually slows to normal. Goosebumps rise on his skin. He smoothes them away with the soapy sponge.

The water cools down. Sam begins to tremble as the thin film of water on his skin evaporates. He's standing on carpet but he feels the cold cement of Toni’s basement, feels the wet of his own body fluids pooling around his soles. His shoulders twinge with the memory of having his arms bound behind him for hours on end. He's cold and he's alone again. He's shivering again.

Suddenly, something is laid across his shoulders. Sam startles, turning around to find Cas, who appears apologetic even though he won't meet Sam's eyes, perhaps out of some sense of pity or modesty. Sam lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, lets his muscles relax. He's home safe. Toni won't hurt him again.

“It's fresh from the dryer,” Cas says, briefly meeting Sam’s gaze before dropping it again. “I thought you'd appreciate it.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam says, voice barely more than a whisper he's so taken aback by this simple attention. He lets the towel’s warmth soak through him, and he breathes a little easier. Cas looks up and nods once solemnly.

“You're welcome.” He puts on a small, comforting smile. “Can I help you?”

Sam is not a child. He does not need help toweling off. But he finds himself nodding, and then Cas is retrieving a second towel from the clean laundry hamper he'd set on the ground. He directs Sam to bow his head to allow him to dry his hair. The clean scent of the towel fills Sam's lungs, and combined with the simple touch of someone he cares about, Sam finds himself grounded in the present. His fists clench tight in the towel around his back, but slowly he relaxes and rubs the towel over his stomach, his groin. When he's done with Sam's hair, Cas moves onto Sam’s feet, and Sam realizes that maybe he should feel embarrassed that his penis is naked and would be on eye-level with his best friend if he looked up, but instead all Sam feels is care and comfort and Cas’s thick hands turning his ankle around.

When Sam is dry, Cas passes him his clothes. Cas makes sure the floor is dry before Sam puts his socks on.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Cas asks with a tilt of his head toward the sink.

The water has long gone cold. The soap bubbles drift around and pop at their leisure. Sam looks back over to Cas, throat tight, and Cas nods.

Sam reaches over and releases the drain.


End file.
